I Was Kidnapped and Put in a Dress - I Thought I Looked Cute
by InkDeath
Summary: Alucard goes missing after crossing into Scotland. Anderson's struggle with loneliness leads him to give into caring for a wild vampiric child, and perhaps he won't have to be alone this Christmas. Unusual AAxA
1. Prologue

November 29th – 11:49pm

Alexander Anderson had that feeling again.

He found he couldn't pray.

Yes, he could go through with all the regulars, thank you, forgive me, give me this or that, but his heart was sad, and couldn't connect, not tonight.

He was lonely.

He had been at the orphanage that day, all day, and one child had been adopted, causing an old pit of longing to open up once again. As he watched the parent's happily take the child away with them, so pleased and joyful, Anderson watched and felt it. They all had each other. All the little children of the orphanage had each other. He was with them, yes, but that was different. He was more like their school teacher. He didn't have anyone.

He tried to make it go away, but it wouldn't.

He sighed and clasped his hands, bending his head again as he sat on his bed.

"Lord… understand me. I'm lonely, for heaven's sake I'll admit it! I want someone to be with, to be around, and to care about more personally than I do the children at the orphanage. Please, have mercy God, and… perhaps… send me someone… I don't know… special. Put someone special in my life."

* * *

"Alucard!"

"Yes, my master?"

"Was this your doing?"

"Yes, my master." Alucard grinned at the corners of his mouth.

"'For someone special…'" Integra held up the small little see through dress that wouldn't have made it mast her belly button. "Really?"

"Seras was watching that Christmas movie, 'Elf,' again. Gave me an idea."

"Well…it went over just as well as it did in the movie." She snarled. "I should make you wear it."

Alucard arched an eyebrow, his smile still there.

"Go throw this out for me, you bastard." She sighed and blew some smoke from her mouth, holding up her cigar. "You are something special, aren't you?"


	2. A Child

November 30th 11:57pm

"You would you protestant pet!"

"There is nothing wrong with pushing a few boundaries, is there, Father?" Alucard grinned his classic grin as he held his gun out trained on Anderson's chest. Anderson stood in the snow across the bridge.

"Get outta Scotland!"

"Or what? You'll beat me to death? Not likely."

"Jus when I thouh' I had gotten rid of the lasta the vampires in mi own back yard…" Anderson brandished his bayonets.

Integra had come across to Europe to meet with a few relations in Spain. While she slept it was no matter for Alucard to take on a wispy mist form and cross a few boundaries for the sake of antagonizing his favorite enemy.

Anderson, with a yell, ran forward and threw his arm across his body, throwing three bayonets at Alucard where he stood on the center of the bridge. Alucard shot them in the air as Anderson came down, glowing bible pages beginning to storm around him and surround the two of them. Alucard, grin ever present, leapt from Anderson's slashing attack with feminine-like grace, his toes coming off the ground and sending him back like a floating ballet dancer. Anderson twisted around, slashing again at Alucard, who again leapt out of the way, his cloak fluttering in the night as the snow was violently brushed aside as it fell from the dark sky. Anderson glared and the bible pages from before had aligned all along the bridge. For now Alucard was bound to the bridge for a fight, but that would only help a little with this particular vampire.

"What's the matter, Father? Not having any fun?" Alucard's body was in the shadow of the tall lonely bell tower that sat grimly a little distance off. The clock on the face read 11:59pm. "Come now, Judas priest, show me what you're really made of!" Alucard jumped towards Anderson and came swooping down like a bat out of hell. Anderson threw his arm forward, snapping his elbow with a jerk, thrusting his blade into Alucard's chest, straight through the heart just as the great bell tower struck midnight with a mighty haunting clang.

It had never worked before, but now…Anderson was taken aback.

Alucard froze, his body suddenly went rigid as he fell back a step with the bayonet sticking out from his body. Anderson stood, waiting to see his next trick. But there was no trick, his body stumbled back, his body hitting against the side of the bridge, and he gave Anderson one last dying look before his body fell over the edge of the bridge, plummeting into the darkness below.

Anderson rushed over and looked over the edge of the bridge and saw Alucard's body thump against the frozen river coated with a thin layer of snow, a plume of red amidst a white sheet shining under the moonlight as the bell tower continued to strike with its powerful peals of sound.

Anderson rushed across to the other side of the bridge. He couldn't believe this, he wouldn't believe this…Alucard could not be beat…as much as he had fantasized and sword he would…did he ever really believe it…?

As the tower struck its final note at twelve Anderson came down on his knees in the snow over the frozen river. His knees in the cold his hand brushed across the empty cloak. He muttered a little as he grabbed the clothes inside. They were all there, his bloodstained knife was there too, but now it was only stuck into a shirt. There was no body to be seen. Anderson knew this was unusual when he was able to pick up Alucard's prized guns, touch the glasses, and brush the snow off his hat…Anderson knew now, something was very wrong.

For Alucard.

"Did I…do it?" Anderson coughed and brought his knees out of the cold snow. "I-I won't belive something so…" He looked up at the bell tower for a long moment, and then made the sing of the cross. "Only God's divine will, I see 'ere." Anderson laughed. "I see now! You monster of Hellsing, unholy beast, in the sight of God ye be destroyed."

Anderson then proceeded to grab Alucard's things. He wanted this, he wanted this trophy, and he would never let it go either. This was now his, his proof of what he managed to take down. But, if Alucard WAS pulling a fast one Anderson would simply mock him for flying like a coward, and their rivalry would continue.

As Anderson crossed under the bridge along the frozen ice and snow, taking in the night and darkness with a new sort of pleasure something caught his eye. He did a double take and then ran over to the spot with Alucard's cloak open. He came down and, just as he thought, he saw the naked body of a small child. He snatched the small pale body up in Alucard's cloak, pulling her out of the snow and into his arms

He turned the child's face up towards him and looked to see that she was completely unconscious. Tucked tightly in his arms he now ran up towards the bridge and across with the child. One minute he was slaying the undead the next he was rescuing a child from the cold. His life was rather emotionally tiring…

Anderson tried to knock on the bell tower door, but no one who might have been inside let him in. Either he was ignored or his shouts and knocks fell on empty walls. He sighed, trying to keep the child warm as he looked around for the nearest place he might get this girl out of the cold. He looked and saw not too far away the small train station that served as his small villages means for transporting outside their small community. Holding onto his package tightly Anderson made his way as he saw the midnight train come back into the station. It would take him home, and let him keep this child warm. He felt a slight breath out of her, and he wasn't about to let it all go out. What was she doing out in the cold, stripped naked and left for dead? A vile monster, one of the human kind, must have done this.

Anderson was in time to jump inside the train, for there was no shelter from the cold at the station, but only a shield from falling snow. He coughed cold air as he quickly grabbed a seat towards the back of the train and rubbed the girls face.

She was pale and looked twelve, maybe fourteen, and was very, very small. She had raven black hair spilling around her face with bangs cut across at her eyebrows. Her skin was also deathly cold. Anderson didn't know if she would make it, perhaps he had been too late to find her, but he would try until he was sure she was dead. He took a small shot of brandy from his pocket, something he'd always had on hand just in case Maxwell should go on another angry tirade, as was his habit. He opened it and tried to splash a little inside her lips. Her perfect white teeth were clenched hard, and he got in a small amount, but she hardly moved. A little color came and went from her cheeks, but that was it.

He still got a few small breaths, however, which left him the hope that he might be able to revive her at some point, once she had been out of the cold long enough, he might save her.

Once he got off the train Anderson made a bee line for the orphanage, which lay close to the station within their small village. When he came inside a nun was in the hall, checking in on the children. When she saw Anderson and the small naked feet that protruded from the red cloak in his hands she immediately waved to him and lead him to the small empty room they used for sick children.

He let her down on the bed, removing the cloak and instead covering her with thick blankets and one electric blanket. "Get some wat'r, an' a morsel, just in case she should wake sooner than later." Anderson stroked back the bangs and looked to see her eyes were still closed. He sighed. "We might be too late, but see wha' ye can do, Sister."

"Yes, Father."

"For now, I have a call to make te Rome."


	3. Vampire!

December 1th – 12:30am

"Are you sure, Anderson…? You have his clothes, everything, but no Alucard?"

"Maxwell, I'm sure. I'm 'olding it now. It was like the demon simply…vanished, perhaps turne'd ta dust, as it goes in Bram Stoker."

Anderson could hear Maxwell's laughter as the phone was pulled away; a pleasurable and somewhat sinister laughter. "I can't wait to see Integra's reaction. Is she going to accuse me, or is she going to be quiet and act as if nothing happened…?" He laughed again. "Well done, Anderson!"

"Sir…" Anderson was still unsure of it all.

"What?" Maxwell said rather harshly. "Is he not dead, Anderson? Are you lying?"

"No, 'tis jus' that…this isn't someone we can assume is dead, deader than undead, simply because he appears to be so."

"Then keep your eye out, Anderson. But for now, I will celebrate this…" Then he yawned a little. "That was worth waking up to."

"Yes, Archbishop." Anderson stared into the red glasses he held in his fingers.

When the conversation was ended Anderson came back to the room with the small pale girl. She was still lying there, looking lifeless, with only a slight movement of her chest, each came after a longer interval than there should have been. Anderson touched her skin. It was still cool, but warmer than before. The blankets should have helped a little, but Anderson wasn't sure if she would make it through the night.

He hadn't stayed with her; however, he had the same nun watch her through the rest of the night. He had left and gone back to the bridge, hovering around the area, waiting, in case it should be a trick. Alucard, dead? That didn't register, no; it didn't sit right as true with him.

He only stopped wandering and scanning the spot when the sun came up. He went back towards the orphanage, and when he arrived he wasn't met with happiness. Not in the least. No laughing children as it should have been, but instead they were all very sad, some even crying.

The dog had been found dead.

But that wasn't the worst of it.

He understood the amount of shock in their faces when he was show the body himself.

The dog hadn't just died, it had been attacked. The dog's brown body was ripped open and left in the middle of the yard. He could see bite marks and much of the dogs throat was torn out as if some wild animal had gone after it. What sort of animal could have done this to the dog? Anderson frowned over it, as he had seen all he needed, and had it cleaned up. If there was something that could kill the dog, then it could very well harm the other children. He ordered that they all stay inside.

Then he went into the small girl's room. He found her laying very much the same, but with a healthier pallor, though still awfully pale like an albino, and the nun sleeping in her seat near the bed.

Anderson touched the Sister's shoulder and let her go to sleep in her own room, taking her seat after she left. He stared at the child, and after a while of observing he noticed her breathing was off and strange, as well as slow. It was barely breathing, really.

Anderson didn't have to wait long for the doctor he had called up that morning. He looked up and stood when he entered. Without many words, as he was a quiet old man, Anderson simply stepped aside and let the doctor look at her.

Staring out the window, his thoughts drifting again towards last night at the bridge, the circles under his eyes slowly feeling heavier by the second, he turned sharply when the doctor exclaimed sharply. He had jumped up and backed away from the bed. "What is _this_, Anderson?" He hissed.

Not understanding Anderson came over to the child, seeing nothing different from before.

"Open her mouth, Anderson."

Anderson took her small chin in his hands and slowly parted her mouth, moving her lips aside. He made a similar cry as the doctor, taking his hand away. "She's a vampire?" He hissed, his hand instinctively going for his bayonets. How could he, of all people, invite a vampire into his own orphanage? Around the children…he could have gotten them killed…the dog, the dog was so far the only victim of his blind stupidity, but now he would fix this, he would finish the demon before she could do anymore damage.

The doctor fled from the scene, quickly slipping out the door as Anderson's hand flicked out a bayonet and drove it down into the girl's body through the chest.

Her red eyes opened wide and her mouth was open as if in shock soon as the blade entered her body, a cut off scream gargling in her throat as her bright red eyes rolled back before her head lifted and then fell back against the pillow. She bled into the white sheets, but moved no more, her eyes still wide, staring lifelessly.

Anderson sighed, removing his glasses and rubbing his eye. He replaced the glasses, opening his eyes again, only to see the vampire child sitting up in the bed, staring wide eyed at him calmly, with the bloody blade sticking out of her flat little chest.

She itched where the blade was imbedded in her body as if there were only a small itch, continuing to stare at Anderson with wide blood red eyes.

As Anderson withdrew another blade to chop off her head, moving swiftly, irritated that she had not already died, but before he swung it the vampire child jumped from the bed, wearing the small nightgown the nun had put on her in the night, and tried to grab at the shining blade with child-like fervor.

"Shiny! Oh it's very shiny! Let me touch it, ah, please?" She jumped up, too short to reach, and grabbed at the air towards the blade.

"Wait, what? Get back, demon!" Anderson swung it down at the small vampire.

Her eyes went wide as it came down, but as it did she grabbed Anderson's arm, hanging onto it, being swung up around in the air as he missed his stroke. Still with the knife in her chest, she grabbed at the second knife. "No, let me touch it! _Gimmie the shiny!_"

Anderson grabbed her off his arm and held her squirming in the air. "Hol' still!"

She stared with eyes practically popping out of her skull at the knife in her chest. Then she began to yank on it with both hands, squirming and kicking as she did, oblivious to Anderson's murderous attitude. "Ouch, ouch, ouch!" She yanked hard until it came out of her body with a terrible sucking sound, then she began to gnaw on it, her own blood decorating her lips.

At this point Anderson found himself staring as he held the child up by the back of her nightgown. Like a…baby? An animal? A complete child… she was gnawing on his blessed bayonet made for killing vampires.

She chirped, taking out of her mouth as if it burned, and _then proceeded to go at it again_.

Then she paused, noticing Anderson silently staring at her. She began to kick around again. "Lemme down, lemme down!"

He dropped her to the floor. But she didn't stay there. "Hey, you! Ge' off! Stop!"

She had jumped his long leg and hung onto it, still mouthing the bayonet.

Anderson kicked in the air to dislodge her, but she hung on too tightly for him to shake off. He stumbled, and then swung his blade down at her. He missed as she twisted around, looking up at him with big wide red eyes like ruby's. "Be careful! That's sharp you know."

"That's tha point!" He jabbed his knife down at her, only for her to swing around his leg again.

"Weeeee…."

"Get…back…would you….still! Hold…right there!" Anderson stabbed and jabbed at her, until in a moment of peak frustration, he stabbed himself in the foot. "Ah!"

She giggled with delight and fell back against the floor, laughing.

"Damn vampire child…"

She screeched at a pitch that caused Anderson to flinch and jumped up at him again, clinging onto his back. "Where?"

Anderson grabbed at the monkey scrambling up his back in a panic.

"Where?" She screeched even louder.

"Just hold still!" Her arms got around his neck, practically strangling him. He dropped his bayonet and grabbed at her firmly with both hands, tugging at her body until he managed to rip her from his back and swing her around to face him. She stared with wide eyes, silent, and hung like a rag doll in his hands, her shoulders hunched from being suspended like cat in the air.

Silence.

"I like you." She grinned, her mouth full of sharp, white vampire's teeth gleaming in the new morning light that entered the room through the blinds.

Anderson sighed.


	4. Waxing Sentimental

December 2 - 5:45am

"It's snowing," she said, looking out the window. Light from the sun glowing dimly in the distance around the curve of the earth. Once it began pouring over the horizon the child would likely retreat from the windowsill and hide under a blanket. If Anderson hadn't decided to kill her before then.

Anderson sat in the small, battered, leather love seat standing alone in the space he called a living room. Bent over, his arms rested over his legs, and he watched the vampire child over the rim of his glasses. On her back there was blood surrounding the tear in her gown from where his bayonet had stabbed her through the heart. He was holding the same bayonet now in his right hand, crusty blood sticking to the blade. She'd screamed when he pulled it out, and why ha hadn't cut her scream off by slicing her neck open he wasn't sure.

He'd had to deal with vampiric children before, and they were the hardest for his heart to harden against. The glee he took in taking down a vampire was lost when he had to look into the eyes of a once-innocent child, now claimed forever by the devil.

The girl put her hand on the cold glass of the window. She should have left an outline of condensation from the warmth of her hand, but it never formed, and somehow noticing that didn't make it any easier to come to a decision. His reluctance was fed by her lack of ferocity. She had come with him to his home, away from the other children, and gleefully received his attention, her red eyes shining, and her face beaming with happiness.

_The moment she tries to bite I'll slit her...I'll slit its throat._

"I miss my mommy," she said to the snow, quietly as if it were secret between them.

"How did this happen, child?"

She turned around and blinked confusedly at him.

"Where is your mommy?"

"I don't know," she said.

"Where were you when you were attacked?"

"I don't know," she said, her voice getting quieter.

Anderson sighed. "What's you name?"

She blinked. "I don't know."

Anderson rubbed his eyes. The girl looked down at the blade in his hand.

"Can I have the shiny?" she asked, her face dead serious.

* * *

"Have you found him?" Integra turned toward the sound of steps coming down the hall into her open office. It was Seras. She shook her head, biting her lip gently, her fangs digging into the delicate skin of her pink skin.

"I can't find him anywhere, nor can anyone else. I tried contacting him with those freaky-brain tricks he always insisted I learn, but...I got nothing. It's quiet on the other end."

"Do you think he's dead?"

"I...don't know, ma'am."

Integra tucked the cigar back into her mouth and turned her eyes back to the window, where snow was gently falling past the panes. Smoke lazily snaked up into the air around her head.

"Well," she said, her blue eyes narrowing, "he'd better be, because when I find him, for this outrageous behavior, I'm going to rip out his entrails." Smoke tumbled out from her flaring nostrils.

* * *

Author's Note ~ Perhaps now that I've returned I'll finish this bloody thing. :P


	5. Esther

_December 3 ~ Village of Westarch, Scotland_

* * *

"No sign of him anywhere," Maxwell said gleefully into the phone. "I'm sure Integra is having a fit. Oh, oh, we should invite them to lunch, don't you think? And ask her to bring along her little pets." He giggled, so pleased with himself it was likely he'd forgotten who it was that had killed Alucard.

Anderson passed by a man complaining about a fox that had stolen one of his turkeys. "That's anither a body, damn it. th' moment Ah see 'at fox, i'll be blowin' its brains it an' hangin' its tail oan mah doorknob," the farmer was saying, arms crossed, as the woman selling him bread tucked the loaves into paper bags. Anderson, with the cell phone tucked against his ear, slowed down at the scent of the freshly baked bread wafting out into the cool morning air.

"Och aye, och aye, lunch. That'll be fin. Keep me updated," Anderson snapped the little flip phone shut and slipped it into his pocket. "Guid morn, ma'am! An' fit loch en? Och och aye, Ah woods loch me some ay 'at delicioos breed ye havin' poppin' it ay th' oven. Mah gob is waterin' loch a dogs," Anderson said cheerfully to the plump baker woman. He moved the shopping bags on his arm up to make room for the bread she passed to him.

With the hot bread tucked in his arm, steam rising into the frigid air off the bag, he unlocked the door to the simple little house that sat a distance behind the village church. He stamped his feet free of snow at the entrance and flipped the switch to the darkened home. There was blood on the floor.

Trailing from the backdoor, past the kitchen and into the living room, drying blood was stuck and smeared across the linoleum floor. The carcass of a turkey lay at his feet, its ribs pointing up at the ceiling, and the child's rest resting inside fast asleep.

_I should do it now,_ he thought, embarrassed with how long he'd spent putting off the execution. _I'll slice her neck now, while she's asleep._

He bent, putting down the bread and shopping bags, and reached into his coat. As he did so the girl stirred when the paper bag holding the bread crumbled noisily. She moaned softly as she woke, and lifted her head, but her bloody, sticky hair got stuck in the bird's ribs. She hissed and pulled her head out of the turkey corpse and lifted her face up at Anderson crouching by her. Her eyes widened and she smiled sweetly. Her eyes were glazed over, and red blood smeared all over her soft cheeks. "I missed you, I missed you," she said sleepily, staggering over to him on her knees, her red hands outstretched. "You were gone, and I was sad, but I...I am not sad...anymoo..." she yawned, her shark-like teeth glistening with saliva, and let her head fall against his knee, pressing her cheek against his pants. A soft snore came out of her nose.

Anderson glanced over at the shopping bags, realizing why now he had decided on buying the red shirts, skirts, and black pants. The cross around his neck swayed.

"Lassie," he said softly, lifting her cool face off his knee and plucked her small body. Her arm slid over her shoulder and her face fell into his neck.

Anderson froze, tense, and his muscles were poised to fling her across the room. But she only snorted softly and went on sleeping. He put her in the worn love seat, where she circled up like a small dog on the cushion.

_What am I doing, what am I doing, I drag this on like this..._ He lifted the small shirt out of the shopping bags. It was dark red, with a little heart bedazzled onto the left side of the chest. _Can God forgive a man for kindness?_

* * *

"I don't wanna I don't wanna!" The girl screeched, She grabbed onto the sides of the doorframe leading into the bathroom. She hissed at the sight of the bathtub, her teeth bared at the air. Anderson pushed against her where she was suspended above the ground in the doorframe.

"Come on, lass!" he grunted as she shoved, but she had turned into marble in the doorway. She shook and hissed. "We hae tae clean ye up!"

"No! No! No!" she howled.

_Someone is going to call the police,_ he thought, _or at the very least think I'm molesting something._

"Fine!" he pulled her back and she came loose in his hands. She was still growling, her little body shaking.

He took them behind the house and placed her in the shade of a tree, where there was little snow over the dying grass. She moaned and hissed when they passed under the sunlight. Anderson then grabbed the hose attached to the pipe sticking up out of the ground just by his backdoor. He was pleased to find the pipes hadn't frozen when he twisted the top of the hose.

He came up to the vampire girl and pointed the hose attachment at her blood-caked face.

She hissed.

He pulled the trigger on the hose attachment and a spurt of cold water blasted against her stoney skin. She squealed and spit, yelping unintelligibly. Like he would a car, Anderson sprayed her down until the grime was blasted from her skin. A part of him enjoyed this, and for a terrible moment he wished this was a true gun, and the vampire vermin inside the child was dying, but when she stopped resisting, and sat as he spayed her down, the desire left him. Anderson was crouched over her, running the water through her hair, pulling his fingers through the icy-cold hair dripping water down into the dead earth.

When he was finished she looked up at him, wet and miserable.

"Whit? Ye cold?"

"No," she said, crossing her arms, her big red eyes flaming furiously, framed by her dark, long wet eyelashes.

When he brought her inside he took her into the bathroom, and this time she did not protest. He put a set of clothes on the counter and handed her a towel. "Gie changed now, will ye?"

She snatched the towel up and shoved her face into it. When Anderson closed the door a muffled scream came from within.

Anderson was breaking the bread he'd bought that morning and having a small glass of red wine when the girl came out. Her hair was still a little wild, but at least she didn't look like a beast.

"Better?" he asked.

"No," she said, crossing her arms.

"Is 'at th' only wuid ye know? 'No'?"

She didn't reply.

"Now, whit shoods Ah call ye? Still dornt know yer name?"

She shook her head, looking down at the bread on the counter. Anderson slid a thick, black leather bound bible over to himself and opened it to the first pages. "Let's see," his glasses were perched lower down his nose. Without looking up he asked "whit sort ay woman did ye want-do ye want tae be?"

She blinked. Her red eyes kept reminding Anderson of big, heavy rubies sent in shining white marble. "I..." she looked up at him, as if she didn't understand the question.

"Here, we'll start wi' th' big ones." He flipped through the Bible in his hand and came over to her, bending so that she could see where he was. "Thaur was Ruth. That's a nice name. Ruth was nae one of God's folk, but she married a man that was, and when he died she lived with 'er mother-in-law. Thaur she earned the th' respect of a man called Boaz. He married 'er, and she becam' part ay th' lineage ay Jesus Christ."

The girl made a face as if she smelt something bad.

"Not Ruth 'en." He flipped again through the delicate pages. "Esther," he said, sniffing and pushing up his glasses. "This woman was made to participate in a...competition ay sorts, whaur th' kin' of Persia woods select a queen. He picked 'er, an' she used 'er new position tae save 'er folk from an evil man called Haman. It was raither a dangerous thing she did. Haman was hung fur tryin' tae kill th' queens folk. They didne know she was a Jew, ye see, until she spoke up abit it."

The girl's little fingers reached out for the Bible. She pinched the corner of one of the pages curling upward at the top of the right page. She pulled her hand back sharply as if she'd been bit. She glared at the book and grabbed the corner again in defiance, turing the page, her face pinched. "I like it," she said.

"So, Esther 'en?"

She nodded.

Anderson stood and left the bible open on the counter. Esther grinned, one black brow lifting up, looking impish. "Esther's enemies don't live," she said.


End file.
